July 2010
1 tag
351
It was a radical idea for him to have—perhaps mad, even—but with his parents recently passed, he could sleep in a king-size bed for the first time, so much more comfortable than a twin—releasing.
“I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections, and the...”
– John Keats (via kathleenrosetta) (via gypsyheart23)
“i am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections, and the...”
– John Keats (via kathleenrosetta) (via gypsyheart23)
1 tag
350
Maurice arrived home late—the garbage can waiting meant Janice was already asleep in the house—brought the trash down to the curb, then checked the mailbox; a glimmering fleck wiggled across the lid—a spider and web (the latter built in a day or less, as he had not seen it yesterday when he had checked)—which he disturbed, and felt a pang of guilt—funny, to feel...
1 tag
349
Amber Mary Rose slipped, it was subtle, but she gave herself away by gripping the banister for balance; Roger laughed as he witnessed this—and surprised himself in doing so—realizing he no longer took anything about her seriously.
Lady Gaga Kidnaps Commissioner Gordon | The Onion... →
1 tag
348
It would be so easy, he thought, the fly had landed a few lines down on the page he was reading, it would be so easy—perhaps satisfying, he didn’t know— to shut the book on the bug, have it killed, dried like a pressed flower, it would have been so easy he thought, as he let the creature fly away unharmed.
Recommend Me in the Creative Writing Directory →
Please and thank you.
I hope you’re all having a lovely last week of July.
Cheers.
Watchfuckyeahclassical:
zveneczi:
Anton Bruckner: Os justi
Choir of Jeunesses Musicales de Hongrie, Ugrin Gábor (16.7.2010, Église de la Madeleine, Paris, France)
Close to my heart ever since performing this with Chamber back in H.S.
1 tag
347
It was too quiet to be truly silent, the cricket in my eardrum under a helicopter in the sky, it’s always softer at night, sound coarser in the daytime when things awake and ride their chaos wheels to work and grind till sunset.
“There is an electric fire in human nature tending to purify – so that among...”
– John Keats (via inthelostandfound) (via gypsyheart23)
1 tag
346
It always begins on the leaves, that cue of rainfall; the drops continue their descent to the earth, some after striking my body—a brief disruption—with such force I must question whether I am still tired from my run if they tire me most.
“My idea of a writer: someone interested in everything.”
– Susan Sontag (via sometimesagreatnotion, awritersruminations via: aperfectcommotion) (via crashinglybeautiful)
1 tag
345
There is a woman I do not know, every weekend she stands on the corner across from my apartment as if waiting for a cab—when they pass she waves them on—she’s there before I go to sleep, and there when I wake up; always gone when I head out to the front stoop for my Monday morning paper.
fuckyeahclassical:
sheeper:
Modest Mussorgsky:...
1 tag
344
All at once the world was distracted, as if the atmosphere itself were ablaze and the people were cloud-skipping their way to a hardened heaven for half-safety’s sake; it was like this, Rath perceived, as he passed through the crowds in the streets, completely unnoticed and not noticing that people were bleeding inside their own minds, and no one could stop to help, nor help himself.
“You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase:...”
– Henri-Frederic Amiel (via matarua & lethebashar & arsvitaest) (via crashinglybeautiful)
1 tag
343
Look at that girl, Elizabeth thought, freshly permed hair that says look I’m as innocent as a child, but watch out! because I’m a trickster, too; tight dress and equally tight gait, each step seizing her space in the world, taking away from others, and seizing the people’s stares; she had bad intentions for sure, probably with some man she was going to meet, sleep with, and...
1 tag
342
The clothes were enough, still stiff with that thrift-store scent and feel of just having being worn by a stranger, to give Matthew a strange sense of accomplishment—finding something new and unexpected, yet too a kind of stealing from a stranger’s life—he could escape into a life distinctly not his own; this he thought as he slipped on his newly acquired slick brown trousers and...
“Know the world in yourself.
Never look for yourself in the world.”
– Ancient Egyptian Proverb (via ratak-monodosico, theancientworld) (via crashinglybeautiful)
1 tag
341
You will not make it to the fair, Winston; you will find yourself at home knowing that instead of thrill-fulfilling shrieks you have quite the opposite; but then you’ll know that suffering is experience, too.
“The best way out is always through.”
– Robert Frost (via blinkthinkwonder) (via libraryland) (via crashinglybeautiful)
Recommend Me in the Creative Writing Directory →
Please and thank you.
fuckyeahclassical:
ihatemusic1943:
Symphony...
1 tag
340
As he so often found himself, Harry was diffident; he hated how the grimy train cars made him feel, sitting next to the sweaty seat-neighbors, getting trapped in the cardiac-arresting stares of passersby, and feeling the shivers of paranoia as everyone else avoided his gaze (as bad if not worse than true glares); and so he sat, feeling seen and unseen, truly (though unrecognized) the sole judge of...
1 tag
339
Taylor looked around the train, his eyes wide and expectant, innocent yet shamed as if just been reproached by an elementary school teacher—waiting for a familiar face, expecting an unexpected face from his past; when a person never appeared, he slumped down into his seat, pretending to sleep, taking up as much room as he could.
—
For July 18.
1 tag
338
Now it wasn’t the choice between lying or not, or even between lying and saying nothing—but it was what kind of lie to tell, because, Shelley reflected, there were so many from which she could choose: lies spurred on by shame, jealousy, betrayal, malice or the desire to preserve or shatter ignorance, but in this case, she would choose one of the most wounding, a lie of love, so she...
Catch a Body, Ilse Bendorf (for 6/16)
poetry365:
Salinger, I’m sorry, but “Don’t ever tell anybody anything” is a string of words I would like to wrap up in canvas and sink to the bottom of the Hudson, or extract by laser from the ribcage of all of us who ever believed it, who felt afraid to miss someone, to be the last one standing. “Tell everyone everything” is not exactly right, but I do believe that if your mother looks...
1 tag
337
A tragedy can have comedy in it, and the inverse is true, too; often noticed merely in hindsight.
—
For July 16.
queenofqeeks asked: Very important and complex question: Did you know I miss your face?
1 tag
crashinglybeautiful:
Ben Webster: My Funny...